


Sherlock and Moriarty

by thedogzoo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Sherlock falls and Moriarty dies, The Great Game, The Reichenbach Fall, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:14:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6518899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedogzoo/pseuds/thedogzoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's a spider. A spider at the center of a web. A criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances."<br/>A poem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock and Moriarty

A spider creeps through it’s web, weaving it, tossing it, turning the silk

It knows how each stand quivers, how each quiver dances and turns

How rain drops fall and stick to its thread

It memorizes exactly how each and every victim **_burns_**.

 

Moriarty’s dance is not much different from a spider such as this

He’s got eyes everywhere in London and treats it like bliss

He seeks out his victims and pulls them into a game

Napoleon of Crime and Criminal Mastermind is his name.

 

He’s always used to getting his way, never a person disobeying

One click of a button and they’re through

But when Sherlock Holmes came through and blaming

Well, lets just say it’s a new challenge to come to.

 

Now, Sherlock Holmes is a cat in hiding

Cunning and clever and silent and regal

His deductions are magnificently defining and methods defying

And it doesn’t matter if it’s illegal.

 

He hides himself away in solitude

And preaches his feelings are not

Even though he comes off rude

A sociopath, he’s really not

 

Sherlock is hurt and broken and crying

He trapped inside of his head

He is lonely and screaming and needs no “goodbye-ing”

His heart is sinking with lead

 

Despite Sherlock Holmes’ disguise

It does not hide who he is to Jim

Because neither one can deny (that)

Sherlock is Jim anew

And Jim is Sherlock too

 

These two brilliant minds are desperately looking for challenge

A way to fight off their boredom and routine

It doesn’t matter if it’s drugs or murder

Pick your poison, it’s all the same

 

So Moriarty found a few lucky winners, you see

And strapped them to a vest full of TNT

He stole their voices and used them as puppets

He destroyed their image, making them only muppets

 

“Here’s the challenge you seek,” he’d say through the phone

“You’ve got 12 hours to solve it or they go up in flames.”

While these victims were scared and alone

Scotland Yard didn’t even know their names

 

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson listened to what he had to say

And then Holmes decided with glee, “Okay, lets play.”

The game is on, you’d hear him say

And they still didn’t know the victim’s name

 

So Jim gave Sherlock puzzles to solve and made sure to count the time

Earning the name Napoleon of Crime, he teased him with calls and pips

The victims would call and beg for life and the gears in Sherlock’s mind revolve 

 The call was already there before the answer escaped his lips

 

The time got shorter and the suspense got longer

Jim’s victims are more precise

Lestrade swears that he gets wronger

And all Jim can do is grin and say, “Right, and you’re brains are slower than mice.”

 

Even though the challenge ended, the case is left unsolved

Moriarty was on every part of Sherlock’s mind

The earth always seemed to revolve

On the legendary man to find

 

That was until Jim grinned and knew it was time

Sherlock was waiting and would not anymore

He sent a text as if it was the norm

“St. Bart’s rooftop. Lets play.”

 

That’s when Moriarty showed the detective his fate

A gun was pointed to his loved ones’ face

He said, “Oh, if you somehow survive”

“No one waiting will be left behind.”

 

Sherlock knew that he was through

But he still took his chance

“But what if I kill you too?”

Moriarty revealed his dance

 

Like every other victim he found

He held a gun to his mouth

And shook Sherlock’s hand and smiled

Before his finger twitched and he was gone for miles

 

Sherlock stepped onto the rooftop and looked down at faithful John

He said “This is my note" and bade him goodbye

He tossed his cellphone away with not one cry

There he ended his sorrowful song

 

Before Jim pulled his trick and made Sherlock’s death more demanding

In the 221B flat, sitting with tea

He grinned at him and said, “You see,

It’s not the fall that kills you. It’s the landing.”

 

And indeed, Sherlock did fall

And his body was found

After waving his life goodbye in a call

He fell

**_down_ **

****

**_down_ **

****

**_d o w n…._ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> When I'm bored I sometimes write poems in an e-mail and send them to my Mom. This was last night's.  
> 4/9/16


End file.
